


Weakness

by TVateMyBrain (datsunblue)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Damaged, F/M, Karachi, Missing Scene, One Shot, POV Irene, Probably requires some pondering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 16:26:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1191951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/datsunblue/pseuds/TVateMyBrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock. Irene. A small room. Karachi. <br/>Irene will take what she can get at this stage. Which might be more than she actually bargained for.</p><p>Need I say more?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weakness

* * * * *

“It's not safe.” 

His voice, low and deep, shivers through her bones.

 

The tiny room is dim, dusty. Early morning light is leaking around the edges of the faded fabric, tacked over the small window.

They both lie, flat on their backs, side by side on the single mattress. It takes up the bigger part of the space. A space only meant for one.

 

Things have gone awry.

 

* * * * *

“Won't John be worried about you?”

He looks at her. A look that says it's none of her business what he has told John. Wherever John thinks he is, it's not here. Certainly not with her. She sighs, listless.

 

She's not the same.

 

* * * * *

The waiting should be unbearable. Sometimes it is.

She watches him as he sits there, back to the wall, hands steepled, pressed to lips. Staring at the wall. Sometimes he stares at her. 

 

She stares back.

Wondering.

 

All men have weaknesses.

 

Don't they?

 

* * * * *

A day and a night pass.

They ration the water carefully. He is not inclined to eat, but she actually presses one of the sandwiches to his lips. It is strangely intimate to watch him chew and swallow.

He seems vaguely annoyed.

He should be more upset, she thinks, to be shut in a room for three days, unexpectedly, with her. His original flight out, delayed by the weather. A thing he can not control.

But then, is it unexpected?

 

All things are possible, with him.

 

* * * * *

Now it is the dim glow of a streetlight that makes outlines visible in the room.

She thinks he is asleep. But she takes nothing for granted.

She slips her hand into his anyway, squeezing his fingers. He doesn't pull away. 

 

He doesn't respond either.

 

 

* * * * * 

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“That's not a good enough reason.”

 

“It is for me.”

* * * * *

 

She's naked again when he turns over. 

He actually slept last night, she thinks.

He freezes when his hand brushes the bare skin of her hip.

She opens her eyes and turns her face towards him. Her breathing betrays her apparent calmness, she knows.

His eyes remain closed. Face resolutely still.

After a moment, she turns on her side, leaving her buttocks pressed up against his own hip bone, insistent.

Finally, he turns towards her. His own body mimicking hers. Knees tucked behind her knees. A hand rests, ever so lightly on her waist. Long fingers splayed over porcelain skin.

 

“Enough.”

The ghost of a word, breathed across the back of her neck.

 

She lies still. For a few more hours. Desire banked carefully, as he sleeps, curled around her.

 

When his breathing shifts, she leans into him minutely. His hand doesn't shift, but she starts to feel the ticking pulse, building, beginning to press against her tail bone.

So, he is human, this glorious man.

 

When he awakens enough, to try to turn away from her, she grabs his hand, drawing it to her chest, trapping him there.

 

“I'm not him.” She whispers it into his hand.

As she rolls her hips expertly back into him, she extracts a gasp from him. His hand clenches into a fist.

 

“But we could pretend.”

 

 

* * * * *

 

Hours later, he is leaving, to make his connection. Soon, she will be leaving too.

She feels strange. A dull ache in her belly.

 

“Goodbye Ms Adler.”

 

She doesn't reply.

* * * * *

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know.  
> Does this booty need explaining? Irene is damaged. I can't tell if I've said too much or not enough.


End file.
